Renowned photographer Anne Geddes, whose whimsical images of babies nestled in flowerpots and dressed as bumblebees became cultural icons of the 1990s, is opening up about the challenges and creativity behind her most famous works. The 68-year-old Australian artist, now based in Manhattan, reveals that creating her beloved photographs often required backup plans involving dozens of babies, as connecting with infants who consider photographers strangers can be incredibly stressful.
Geddes recalls one particularly challenging shoot where she attempted to photograph a baby sitting in a tank of water surrounded by water lilies. "It took five babies to make it work," she explains. "One of them was even called Lily, but she was not having a bar of it. She looked at me as if to say: You think I'm getting in that water?" This anecdote illustrates the unpredictable nature of working with infant subjects and the patience required to capture the perfect moment.
One of her most recognized photographs, "Cabbage Kids" from 1991, shows twin brothers Rhys and Grant wearing cabbage-leaf hats while sitting in upturned cabbages, turning toward each other with expressions of mild alarm. The shot was achieved through clever staging: Geddes' assistant tied a balloon to a string, lowering it between the twins and quickly lifting it the moment they turned to look. This technique demonstrates the innovative methods Geddes employed to capture natural reactions from her young subjects.
Speaking from her Manhattan home, Geddes reflects on how dramatically the photography industry has transformed since her heyday. "That whole world has changed; that income has gone," she notes, referring to the impact of digital technology on traditional photography. She describes "Cabbage Kids" as "authentic," emphasizing that "the props were all real. It was all in my garage." The photographer expresses concern about modern digital manipulation, saying, "It's funny; with Photoshop and AI, it makes me sad to think that if you came to my work now, you might question whether it was real."
For many who grew up in the 1990s, Geddes' posters were bedroom wall staples featuring babies positioned upright in flowerpots or buckets, gazing sleepily from peonies, calla lilies, or beds of roses. Some infants were dressed as bumblebees, others adorned with fairy wings, sleeping peacefully on beds of autumn leaves. These images, while whimsical and sometimes surreal, possessed the rare quality of appealing to children without being childish and are now experiencing a resurgence on social media, often shared with ironic appreciation.
Geddes' work gained widespread recognition through various media channels, appearing not only on Hallmark greeting cards but also gracing the cover of Vogue Homme, featured in Dior advertisements, and even inspiring a 2004 collaborative book with singer Céline Dion. The collaboration's most striking image shows Dion holding a sleeping baby encased in what appears to be an amniotic sac, demonstrating Geddes' ability to create both beautiful and thought-provoking imagery.
The pinnacle of Geddes' mainstream success came with her appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show. "She came out carrying two babies dressed as bumblebees and we shot up the New York Times bestseller list!" Geddes recalls enthusiastically. For many millennials, however, her peak fame moment was the Friends episode where Elle Macpherson's character, Janine, used Geddes' photograph "Tayla as a Waterlily" to feminize Joey's apartment, introducing her work to an even broader television audience.
Described as striking with silver hair, high cheekbones, and bright skin—resembling "Meryl Streep if Streep wore her cap backwards"—Geddes speaks thoughtfully about her career from behind a generic backdrop. Nearly 30 years after creating "Down in the Garden," her famous series of babies photographed among flora and fauna, she is preparing for her first major retrospective at the New Art Museum in Tübingen, Germany.
The retrospective will feature 150 images, including photographs of identical triplets sleeping in the hands of Jack, a school groundsman whose distinctive hands also appeared in her 1993 photograph of Maneesha, a baby born prematurely at 28 weeks. This hopeful image has resonated with countless families, with people writing to tell Geddes they keep it on their refrigerators as a source of inspiration and comfort.
Another significant photograph features Tuli and Nyla, captured during a two-day studio session with numerous babies and a giant Polaroid camera. "I had no props, but you need a vague plan when you work with babies, as you have to work quickly," Geddes explains. The magical moment occurred when Nyla began fussing and Tuli instinctively rocked her while whispering into her hair—a tender interaction Geddes immediately captured.
Geddes distinguishes between her "classic work"—the prop-less, quieter pictures—and the flowerpot images that brought her fame. "After 'Down in the Garden' came out, it was all pots, pots, pots," she says with slight exasperation. "It was like I had a flowerpot tattooed on my forehead. People always want the flowerpots! But I'm like: I do other things." She hopes the retrospective will showcase the breadth of her artistic vision beyond the iconic garden scenes.
Despite remarkable commercial success—selling more than 10 million calendars and nearly 20 million copies of her seven coffee table books (surpassing even the sales of "Fifty Shades of Grey" in its first decade)—Geddes hasn't always received critical recognition in an industry dominated by acclaimed photographers like Bailey and Rankin. When asked about potential snobbery, she observes, "It's just a bit of a guy industry. [Men] would say: I used to shoot babies, but then I moved on to landscapes. I was always puzzled. To me, babies are magical."
The response to her work has sometimes been frustrating, with critics dismissing her as "a one-shot wonder." Geddes emphasizes her equal interest in photographing pregnant women and new mothers, noting that "people don't want to talk about that as much." She now prefers describing her work as focusing on "anything pertaining to the promise of new life, the miracle of pregnancy and birth," hoping the European exhibition will generate renewed American interest in this broader artistic vision.
Born in 1956, Geddes grew up on a 26,000-acre ranch in Queensland alongside four sisters, attending a two-room primary school as country kids. Ironically, photography wasn't prominent in her early life: "I only have three images of myself under two and none of me as a newborn." As a teenager, she subscribed to Life magazine and became fascinated with storytelling through images, though she initially worked in television where she met her husband, Kel, and discovered the magic of darkroom photography.
After the couple moved to Hong Kong for Kel's television work, Geddes decided to pursue photography seriously. "I thought: I've got a roof over my head, now's the time to pick up a camera," she recalls. She began advertising in supermarkets, offering family and children's photography services, traveling to homes and gardens with a borrowed Pentax K1000 camera from her husband.
Returning to Australia during her second pregnancy, Geddes began developing her signature baby photography style. She realized that studio work allowed complete environmental control and started creating elaborate sets in her garage while experimenting with various props. Many iconic shots emerged accidentally, like when six-month-old Chelsea was brought for a portrait and Geddes spotted an empty flowerpot: "We just popped her in there," lining it with fabric for comfort.
Geddes learned to be selective about her subjects, discovering that babies under four weeks work best because "if they're full of milk and warm, they'll sleep." She also favored six- and seven-month-olds because "they're not mobile, but suddenly they're sitting and have this whole new perspective. Also, their heads are too big for their bodies, which is funny." However, she found that as her rates increased, clients expected miracles with challenging toddlers: "The more you charge [for a portrait], the more they want you to make magic with a two-year-old who is having a bad day."
As her reputation grew, parents began sending baby photos unsolicited or calling from hospital labor wards in excitement about their newborns. All published images required parental permission, and parents were always present during shoots. "To me, a naked newborn baby is perfect," Geddes explains. "They are us, essentially good people, at the start of their lives, and that's what I love about them. That's what I was trying to capture."
With characteristic philosophical reflection, she adds, "You look at these tyrants that are running rampant [in politics] and think: they were once newborns. What happened? Why didn't your mothers just tell you to sit down and behave?" This perspective reveals the deeper humanity underlying her seemingly simple baby photographs.
Geddes credits May Gibbs' 1918 book "Tales of Snugglepot and Cuddlepie"—about little brothers adventuring in the Australian bush—as her primary inspiration. "Photographers have to have their own visual signature. This became mine," she explains. Her success is particularly notable given the kitsch nature of her images, which she acknowledges aren't considered high art: "This subject of mine is not deemed to be art and that's been evident throughout my career. But that was also the point. It was meant to be a children's story, not serious."
Regarding modern privacy concerns in the digital age, Geddes doesn't believe online considerations significantly impact her work style. "I know a lot of people talk about having their babies online, or not having them online, but this sort of work is not exposing the babies personally," she notes. She maintains personal connections with many former subjects, still referring to images by each baby's name and recently reaching out to reconnect with subjects now in their thirties, many of whom are parents themselves.
Reflecting on the universal appeal of baby photography, Geddes acknowledges that not everyone appreciates others' children as subjects. She recalls nearly winning a major portrait award in New Zealand, only to have the head of Kodak tell her afterward: "Thank God you didn't win. How could we have a baby on the boardroom wall?" This anecdote encapsulates the ongoing tension between commercial success and artistic recognition that has defined her career.
Anne Geddes' retrospective exhibition "Until Now" runs from August 16 through September 21 at Art 28, Neues Kunstmuseum Tübingen, Germany, offering the first comprehensive look at her diverse body of work beyond the flowerpot images that made her a household name.
